Annabelle has found her niche in Paris. She’s all about public transportation. In fact I’m pretty sure she’s better at navigating the Metro than I am. I’m a big fan of walking and using public transportation as a backup. Annabelle sees the Metro and busses as a welcome reprieve for her weary legs. Every time we pass a herd of Velib rental bikes, she expresses her disdain that they are not intended for children. That doesn’t stop her from hopping on the saddle and exclaiming, “Take my picture!”
not for children but alright for a photo op
Not too long ago, we were invited to lunch at the home of one of Annabelle’s classmates. Her mother gave us directions regarding which bus to take and so forth, while offhandedly mentioning that they live near the Eiffel Tower. I took this as meaning in the vicinity, but they actually live in its shadow, making for an impressive departure at the bus stop. Surprisingly, it was the first time Annabelle has been to the Eiffel Tower since moving to Paris. Due to frigid temperatures, she practically had the entire place to herself.
nothing like the bitter cold to clear out tourists
Whenever we cross Boulevard Saint Germain and happen upon a certain metro grate with an impressive updraft, Annabelle squeals with delight. Warm, vanilla scented air blows from the Metro tunnel below, making for frequent Marilyn Monroe moments. On a cold day, it’s quite pleasant though I can’t help but consider the fumes and filth surely lurking beneath that vanilla facade.
eat your heart out marilyn (cough, cough, sputter, sputter)
When Naud returned from Seattle, he imported all sorts of goodies in his luggage: maple syrup, brown sugar, Fran's chocolate, Lululemon sportswear, toothpaste... Yes, toothpaste. Somehow, every French toothpaste I’ve tried tastes like licorice, which makes me gag. In addition, he gathered up some items from our storage unit including Annabelle’s Lego’s, sewing supplies and her scooter. All French kids have scooters and Annabelle was ecstatic when hers arrived. It was a lot like Christmas around here. My best surprise, aside from brown sugar, was my Le Crueset Dutch oven because despite the fact that they are made in France, Le Creuset are much more expensive here.
Love is lugging a hulking cast iron skillet and bulky scooter across the ocean for your wife and daughter. We're so lucky.
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